My fire

Wind goes by and I'm on train
and I feel okay
today.

Or when the sun is low
about to go
I feel no heat
from above.
And time is slow
when watching the sunset.

If my skin is warm
imagine what it's like underneath.
Waiting eager for the storm
before i see it's just a myth
my freedom gone.

I didn't choose
the color
the tenderness
the warmth
or the
cold.

Didn't ask for
my age
or my
face.

It's piping hot under my skin
and I can't take it off.
Pressure.